


Down On the Farm

by kingsofeverything



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 4-Wheelers, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Awkward Harry Styles, Barn, Blow Jobs, Bonfires, City Boy Louis Tomlinson, Country Boy Harry Styles, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-02 07:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20271991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofeverything/pseuds/kingsofeverything
Summary: 🎶🎵🎶Every Friday night there's a steady cloud of dustThat leads back to a field filled with pickup trucksGot old Hank crankin', way up loudGot coolers in the back, tailgates downThere's a big fire burnin' but don't be alarmedIt's just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm— “Down On the Farm” by Tim McGraw





	Down On the Farm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lululawrence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lululawrence/gifts).

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUS ❤  
To one of the nicest people and one of the most prolific writers in our fandom, I hope you have a wonderful birthday!
> 
> Thanks to Nic for betaing and also everything!
> 
> Tumblr post is [here](https://kingsofeverything.tumblr.com/post/187136241795/by-kingsofeverything-fullonlarrie-every-friday), Tweet is [here](https://twitter.com/fullonlarrie/status/1163782259801038848?s=21)
> 
> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3. **
> 
>   
**Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**  


🤠

“Are you nervous?” Harry asks, glancing over and catching Louis’ eye for a second. 

“Not really.” Hopefully the white knuckle grip Louis has on the handle above the passenger side window is inconspicuous in the dark truck cab. From the way Harry keeps chewing on his lower lip and clearing his throat, he seems more anxious than Louis feels, which is cute, if a little ridiculous. After all, this date was Harry’s idea. 

It’s not Louis’ first bonfire party, but it’s definitely his first bonfire on a farm out in the country. Or out in _Bumfuck,_ as Harry and his friends call it. The double entendre is too much for Louis to even think about most days. The last ‘bonfire party’ Louis attended took place in his neighbor’s manicured backyard, well inside the city limits of his hometown, and included a small, well-maintained, outdoor fire pit. But he assumes tonight won’t be quite the same. 

Harry clears his throat again and hums, but doesn’t say anything. That’s probably for the best considering he’s driving them down a dark, narrow, winding dirt road. Thick clouds of dust from the trucks in front of them obscure their vision and Louis can’t see more than the trees looming over from either side and a short stretch of bumpy road before it disappears. 

The others get far enough ahead that the dust settles and Harry rolls his window part way down. Crisp, cool air swirls through the truck cab, carrying the smell of fire and old memories of sleepaway camp. Louis watches Harry, bottom lip still caught between his teeth, furrowed brow relaxing somewhat as the trees thin and give way to an open field and the warm light of a blazing bonfire in the center of a clearing. Shadows dance across the side of an old barn that stands on the far end against the trees and Louis is fairly certain that he sees corn stalks swaying in the distance. 

Harry lays on the horn as he swings his truck around until they’re facing back the way they came, then he turns to Louis and grins. They slow to a stop near the tree line. 

“Promise not to make fun?” Harry scrunches his nose and dangles the keys in front of Louis. 

Shaking his head, Louis laughs and snatches the keys from Harry’s grasp, stuffing them in the breast pocket of his jean jacket and snapping it closed. “No way. Love making fun of you.” He flushes at his use of the L word, even in that context. 

The bonfire is less intimidating now that the truck’s heat isn’t blowing his hair around, so Louis hops out and hurries towards it, barely waiting for Harry whose long legs make it easy for him to keep up, even carrying a cooler in his other hand. The flames can do two jobs and disguise Louis’ blush. With his hands in fists and shoved into his jacket pockets, he puts some space between them, unsure of how to act because this is their fifth date, but also Louis’ first time hanging out with most of Harry’s friends. 

Slipping his warm hand around Louis’ upper arm, Harry falls into step at his side, leaning in until his lips brush the shell of Louis’ ear. “In a hurry?”

With a shake of his head, Louis mutters, “Cold.” Then he turns to Harry and cackles, barely containing the tail end of his laughter with the back of his hand. Harry traces the wide brim of the worn Stetson with his index finger, winks, and tips his hat. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“Maybe.” Harry squeezes Louis’ bicep and slides his hand down the back of his arm, tugging on his elbow until Louis pulls his hand out of his pocket. “What’s the matter?”

Looking side to side, Louis can see Harry’s friends, mostly other guys in similar Levi’s and faded flannels, some with boots, some with cowboy hats, but none managing to make it look quite like Harry. Perhaps it’s the buttons. Or lack thereof. Even with his green canvas jacket on, Harry’s shirt is half undone. But there are people in sweaters or hoodies with sneakers and even track pants. 

A girl in a brown cowboy hat just like Harry’s smiles at them and Louis smiles back, his eyes going wide when another girl with a long dark braid wraps her arm around her middle, pulls her close and scowls at Louis. He chuckles quietly, tangling his fingers with Harry’s, and says, “Nothing. Never mind.”

“I told you, it’s cool. Everybody here’s known me since I was in diapers. And they’ve known I’m gay almost as long.” Harry rubs his thumb over the back of Louis’ knuckles and tips his head towards the girls. “Those two — Bebe and Rita — have been together forever. Like, they were probably dating before they realized it, you know? Best friends since Sunday school.”

Louis nods and follows Harry around the bonfire, eyeing it warily. When he decided to move south for grad school, he thought about warmer winters and beaches. He never thought about what else might be nearby, so he didn’t know that a few miles inland he’d find farmland, rivers, and bears for fuck’s sake. And Harry. Not once did Louis think he’d find someone like Harry.

There’s another line of trucks parked on the other side of the fire, closer to the barn, tailgates down. Almost every truck has a cooler in the back, one has a big plastic garbage can with a keg in it, and two have people dancing to the Hank Williams music blasting from someone’s stereo. 

Harry sets his small cooler on the tailgate of the last truck and slides the top open, pulling out one of Louis’ favorite cider beers and opening it on his belt buckle. 

“Thanks,” Louis whispers, pursing his lips and turning to look into the fire so he isn’t caught staring while he adds that to the list of things he never thought he’d find hot before he met Harry. 

“Welcome, babe,” Harry says, as if he calls Louis _babe _on a regular basis. He flips the bottle cap in the air, catches it, and slips it in the tight back pocket of his jeans. “Sorry, I… It slipped out.”

Trying not to frown and hoping no one overhears him, Louis asks, “Did you not mean it?”

“No, I did. Do.” Harry takes off his hat, combing his fingers through his messy curls. He holds his Stetson over his heart and bites his lower lip, eyes darting to Louis’ mouth. “I really like you, Lou. I want… um… I want to like, court you.”

Louis snorts and barely manages to swallow the beer in his mouth without choking on it. When Harry pouts, Louis says, “Thought we were already dating. Are we not?”

“Oh, um… We… It’s a bit different. I…” Harry sighs, looking somewhat relieved, but still anxious as he spins his hat slowly in both hands. “I’m fucking this up.”

“Harry Styles!” Gasping and clutching his free hand to his chest, Louis points his beer bottle at Harry and says, “You said the F word.”

Just one more thing about Harry that Louis knows would annoy him in anyone else, he very rarely curses. In the months that they’ve known each other as lab partners, then as friends before their more recent dates, he can recall Harry saying ‘shit’ once when he tripped and dropped an empty beaker, and again on their second date when someone cut them off and forced Harry to slam on the brakes, stopping short. Louis warms at the memory of Harry’s arm swinging across his chest as if to protect him in case the seatbelt didn’t. 

“I want to show you something,” Harry says with a firm nod. “Finish your beer.”

Raising his eyebrows, Louis tips his head back and finishes his cider in one go, setting the empty bottle back in the cooler. He shrugs one shoulder and says, “Let’s go.”

Harry reaches for his hand and Louis hums happily, fitting his icy fingers between Harry’s warm ones. The further they get from the fire, the cooler Louis feels, but he tries to hide his shivers. It was stupid of him not to wear heavier clothes in this weather. Of course, Harry notices and immediately takes off his jacket. 

“You’ll freeze, Harry. No.” Louis crosses his arms, but Harry just rolls his eyes and throws his jacket over Louis’ head.

“I’m not cold and I’ve got another jacket. Left it here earlier. Wait a second.” Harry unlatches the barn door and pulls it wide open, shining his phone’s flashlight inside. He returns with another, almost identical canvas jacket, but blue instead of green, and walks away from Louis, shaking the coat violently before pulling it on. He smirks and Louis really wants to kiss him, but he’s glad he refrains when Harry winks and says, “Had to shake the spiders out.”

There’s no containing _that _shiver. Louis lightly smacks Harry’s shoulder, mumbling a flippant, “Hate you.” 

“Don’t say that.” Harry smooths his hands over the front of his dark blue jacket and settles his hat back on his head, stepping closer to Louis and grabbing both of his hands. “Please?”

Pressing his lips together, Louis nods quickly and squeezes Harry’s hands, swinging their arms between them. Widening his eyes, Louis reaches up and quickly brushes his hand across Harry’s shoulder. “Missed a spider.”

Harry jumps and Louis takes the opportunity to tickle him until he snorts and can barely breathe. 

“What’d you want to show me?” Louis asks.

“Oh! Right. Yeah.” Harry drops his hands to his hips and takes another deep breath, then turns his phone’s flashlight back on. A moment later, a motor turns over, revs, and Harry rolls through the barn door on a four-wheeler ATV. He hands Louis a helmet and switches his Stetson for one. There’s a swooping sensation in his gut, but he trusts Harry. This doesn’t feel reckless. It feels right. 

Louis climbs onto the seat behind Harry, swinging his leg over and wrapping his arms around Harry’s middle. Harry revs the engine again and even with the helmet on, Louis can hear someone hoot and another person shouts Harry’s name as the ATV accelerates away from the light and warmth of the bonfire. 

It’s dark and the lights on the four-wheeler show nothing but trees on all sides of them as Harry navigates them through the woods. An ATV is different from a motorcycle, the only reference Louis has for this sort of thing. He rode on the back of one once when he was fifteen and invincible. Before his excitement can turn to nervousness, Harry slows the four-wheeler and turns onto a dirt road. They’re still surrounded by trees, but it feels much less dangerous, though it’s still pitch black out. Louis leans back, staring up at the sky through the visor of his helmet, and sees more stars than he’s ever seen before. In the city, even during a new moon, only the brightest stars and planets are visible through the light pollution. Out here, the night sky is as unfathomable as the ocean. 

When he looks back down again, Harry slows to a stop and cuts the engine, plunging them into complete darkness. Louis climbs off the ATV by the light of Harry’s phone and thinks he can make out trees on every side of them. They’re in a small clearing. A heavy duty Maglight replaces Harry’s phone’s flashlight, and his Stetson replaces his helmet, both of them stored in a compartment on the back of the four-wheeler that Louis hadn't noticed. 

“Four-wheeler should’ve scared off any bears, snakes, or gators.” Harry shines his flashlight about ten feet in front of them and Louis’ heart almost leaps out of his chest. They’re standing on a riverbank, a few feet from the water which is almost level with the land. 

“Jesus Christ.” Louis takes a step backwards. It’s probably not necessary, but he’s honestly surprised, despite knowing that there were rivers and creeks in the area. 

“This is my grandpa’s land. I think I said—”

“You told me. Didn’t know there was a river.” Louis turns and tries to focus on the river in the dark. “Can’t see anything really.”

Harry rubs his hand between Louis’ shoulder blades, resting it on his lower back. He holds the Maglight in front of him and says, “If we turn this off, it’ll be really dark at first. Like pitch. All you’ll see is the stars. But the moon’s out. At least, part of it is.”

“Okay,” Louis whispers and flicks the flashlight off. A crescent moon glows high in the sky and he looks at it for too long, unable to see anything else at all. Closing his eyes, he turns, burying his face in Harry’s neck. With his cool brow pressed against Harry’s warm skin, Louis relaxes and after a moment, he opens his eyes again, able to see the stars. On the opposite side of the river, the trees are silhouetted against the sky, only visible due to the absence of starlight. It’s beautiful, and he can hardly see a thing. 

“Louis? I… I can’t see you, so I’m guessing you can’t see me either. What I was trying to say earlier… to ask you, um…” Harry huffs and Louis reaches for him in the dark, wanting to soothe his frustration. His hands find Harry’s waist, slipping between his jacket and shirt and pulling him closer. “When I was little, I used to listen to my grandma tell the story of how she met my grandpa. I’m sure in real life it wasn’t as romantic or picturesque as it seemed when I was seven, but… I always wanted that. Someone who could meet me while I was covered in mud and digging for bait worms and still want to know me. Never thought I’d have, um…” Harry clears his throat and then coughs into his fist. “We've been dating, but when I said I want to court you, it’s like… dating with intention.”

“Intention?” Louis asks with a smirk, tipping his head. “Like the intention of being my boyfriend?”

“Sort of? What I mean by intention is like, I want to be serious about you. Be your boyfriend. With the intention of being more some day.”

Louis stands there in his too thin T-shirt, jean jacket, and Harry’s canvas coat, watching his breath cloud in front of his face. His eyes are adjusting to the low light and he can see the river, though only where the moon and stars highlight it, reflecting off the moving water. And Harry’s profile. Even in the dark, Louis can tell he’s biting his lower lip. He lifts his hand to cup Harry’s jaw and rubs his thumb under his lip until he releases it. When he does, Louis surges forward, catching Harry off guard and banging their heads together. They both hiss and pull back, but Louis leans in again almost instantly, pressing a gentle kiss to Harry’s brow bone where he hit his forehead. 

“You’re lovely,” Harry whispers softly, lips brushing Louis’ temple. 

This time Louis brings their lips together without injuring either of them, gripping the sides of Harry’s thin flannel shirt and pulling him closer until their hips meet. Kissing Harry is Louis’ favorite thing to do, despite only doing it a few times. At the end of their first date, Harry walked him to his door and kissed his cheek and asked if he could take Louis out again. He thought it best to let Harry lead when it came to anything physical between them because he seemed to want to take his time and Louis certainly didn’t want to scare him off. Their fourth date — last night — ended in the parking lot of his apartment building with Louis leaning over the center console of Harry’s truck, half in his lap after finally tasting his lips. 

Impatient and still cold, Louis slides his hands under Harry’s flannel without thinking, smoothing his palms over the bare skin of his back. It’s the first time he’s touched Harry so intimately and Harry twitches before cupping Louis’ jaw and parting his lips with his tongue. As with everything he does, Harry’s kisses are sure and careful, every nudge of his nose against Louis’ cheek, every sweep of his tongue over Louis’ lips feels deliberate. It takes all of Louis to kiss Harry back the way he deserves. 

No wonder he doesn’t notice the rain. 

The first drop he feels on his cheek and for a split second, he thinks that Harry is crying and his reaction to that overwhelms him. He draws back to check that Harry’s all right, a raindrop hits his nose, and they both laugh. 

“We should head back,” Harry murmurs against Louis’ mouth. “Rain’s coming.”

“Hate to break it to you, but it’s already raining.” Louis points up at the sky, then wipes a raindrop off the brim Harry’s hat. 

“Listen.” Harry closes his eyes and Louis can just make it out. His ears easily pick up the river, the gusts of wind, and the rustling of leaves. Underneath it all is a rushing white noise. While fat drops fall few and far between where they’re standing beside the river, in the woods nearby the rain is coming down fast and hard. 

The way back seems to take twice as long with Harry moving at a crawl even on the straightaway of the dirt road. Sheets of water ensure that visibility is virtually nonexistent, and Louis closes his eyes behind the visor of his helmet, holding tight around Harry’s waist, and trusting him to get them back safely. 

Rivulets run over his helmet and down his neck, soaking the collars of his t-shirt and jean jacket. A single drop of water rolls over his spine to his lower back and he shivers, opening his eyes. Trees give way to the clearing again, the barn is right where they left it, Harry’s truck is too, but everyone else is long gone, and the fire is losing its fight with the storm. 

Harry unlatches the barn door and Louis shuts it behind him after he drives the four-wheeler inside. He turns it off, but leaves the light shining on the far wall. Somewhere, in one of Harry’s pockets, Louis is positive there’s a handmade wool hat and he wants it because he might not be able to see it, but Harry can, and he knows his hair looks awful. He finds it in the fifth pocket he checks. It’s an awful coral pink — Louis is more of a pale pink person — with a big bobble on top and he has to know.

“Did you make this?” The answer is obvious when Harry squeezes his eyes shut, but Louis waits for him to open them again before he tugs the hat on over his messy hair. “It’s soft. Warm. Speaking of…” Louis pulls off Harry’s coat and drapes it over the seat of the four-wheeler, shucking his wet jean jacket and t-shirt, then putting Harry’s canvas jacket back on. “How is this dry?”

“It’s waxed. It’s a rain jacket,” Harry says, voice strained. 

Frowning, Louis looks up. He’s still cold, but it’s not as bad with the barn to stop the wind and rain. Harry picks up his jean jacket and finds his truck keys, then hangs the jacket on a peg by the door. Both barn doors open wide enough to let a tractor through, Louis assumes, and he wonders if that’s what Harry’s doing, if he should stand back and make room for a tractor. He stands back and makes room for Harry’s truck instead and Harry climbs out, pulling a bundle from behind the seat and handing it to Louis. 

Frozen in place, Louis watches Harry brush the water off his Stetson and hang it on a peg near Louis’ jean jacket. He lets his jacket slide down and off his arms, giving it a shake before hanging it as well. While Louis would like to pay attention to the careful way Harry picks his discarded wet clothes up off the ground, getting as much of the dirt off of them as possible before hanging them over the handles of the ATV, he finds he’s unable to process much of anything but Harry’s bare torso. 

Rather than put his coat back on, Harry steps up close to Louis and takes the bundle from his arms, unfolds it — a quilt, Louis isn’t quite sure what he thought it was — wrapping it around Louis’ shoulders. 

“Come here,” Louis whispers, holding the edges of the quilt like wings. He watches Harry’s gaze travel from his eyes, to his mouth, and down over the sliver of bare skin where the jacket isn’t fastened, then slowly back up. “Come get warm.”

Harry nods and moves just barely into Louis’ space, so Louis makes up the difference and brings his arms around Harry’s shoulders. When he does, he notices his jacket and laughs quietly, shifting the quilt so that it hangs on Harry’s shoulders instead. Inside the cocoon of the blanket, he doesn’t feel he needs it, so Louis shimmies out of Harry’s jacket and tosses it towards the four-wheeler, hoping it doesn’t land in the dirt so Harry won’t feel obligated to pick it up and possibly find a reason not to return to their shirtless blanket cuddle. 

Resting his forehead on Harry’s collarbone, Louis trails the tips of his fingers up and down Harry’s back. “Don’t know why I’m trying to warm you up. You’re like a furnace.”

“Yeah, I… I run hot, I guess.” Harry holds the quilt slightly away from Louis, almost like a curtain instead of a blanket.

“Harry?” Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s shoulder and tips his chin up. “I want what you said.” Harry hums as if he doesn’t quite understand what Louis means. “Want to be your boyfriend. With intention.”

“Really?” Harry jerks back, wide-eyed, mouth open like it’s actually that unbelievable that Louis would want him that way. 

“Yes, Harry. You can even court me, if you want.” Louis raises his eyebrows and inches closer to Harry, leeching his body heat. 

“I didn’t know how else to say it,” Harry mutters, cheeks flushing an even darker pink. But his arms relax, becoming heavier where they’re wrapped around Louis’ shoulders, and when Harry inhales deeply, his chest expands and Louis moves into the pressure where their bodies touch.

“Anything you have to say, I’ll listen. Sorry I didn’t understand.” Placing a soft, chaste kiss on Harry’s lips, Louis rocks back on his heels and says, “For what it’s worth, I was kind of waiting all semester for you to ask me out. I’ve been serious about you from the start.” 

“Oh… Well, dang!” 

Louis snorts, choking on his laughter, and cackling when it finally breaks free. The harder he laughs, the pinker Harry becomes until his chest and neck are blotchy, and Louis can’t keep up, trailing kisses over his heated skin. 

“Sorry. Not laughing _at_ you. Mostly.” Louis giggles quietly, framing Harry’s face in his hands and pulling him into a kiss. “What’s so disappointing?”

“I just… If I’d known, I’d’ve asked you sooner.” 

“We’re here now.” Louis shrugs, but then he catches Harry’s eye and winks. “You’ve got me half naked in a barn, Harry Styles. What are you gonna do?”

Groaning, Harry drops his chin to his chest, leaning in and resting his forehead on Louis’ shoulder. “Don’t tease,” Harry says, tucking the quilt tighter around them and freeing one hand which he immediately sweeps down Louis’ spine, stopping at the waist of his jeans. 

“Not teasing. Can’t think of anything you’d do to me that I wouldn’t want.”

Harry’s hips hitch forward and Louis wonders if he’s been hard since the river. “Shit. I don’t…”

“Hey, hey…” Louis grabs Harry’s hips and pushes him back, putting some space between them. “Hey. Anything makes you uncomfortable, don’t do it. Okay? Like, I can put my shirt on. Or you can drive me home, if you want. Just… I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Shaking his head, Harry turns away, avoiding Louis’ eyes. “Want everything. Don’t want to like… scare you with how much.” He huffs and Louis can tell he wants to pull away, but he won’t do it with the quilt keeping them from the cold. 

“Oh… Well, have you thought about…” With his hands on Harry’s chest, Louis lifts up on his toes and whispers in his ear, “Me blowing you here in the barn?”

Harry nods as if he can’t stop himself, sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth. “You don’t have to—”

“Baby,” Louis interrupts, nipping at Harry’s neck. “I know. So if you don’t want me to, say so. Otherwise…” Sinking to his knees, Louis smirks because Harry doesn’t attempt to stop him, just grunts when Louis hits the ground. At first he tries to keep them both covered by the quilt, whether he’s concerned about the cold or modesty, Louis doesn’t know. But he loses the blanket when Louis undoes the third button on his fly and rubs his thumb along the denim covered underside of his cock. Harry’s fingers thread through his hair and he knocks the knit hat off of Louis’ head. Whining, Louis pushes against his hand and when Harry’s nails scratch his scalp, he nuzzles his hip, tugging his jeans down, and smiling at the bright white of Harry’s briefs. He traces the outline where his dick stretches the fabric and sucks a kiss to the head, tasting Harry’s precome through the thin cotton. 

Harry does talk quite a bit — not as much Louis — but kept up a running commentary during their labs. He’s quieter now than Louis can remember him ever being, so he hooks his fingers in the elastic waist of Harry’s briefs and works them down under his balls. Glancing up to check that Harry’s all right, Louis finds his head turned to the side and follows his gaze. 

This whole time they’ve been standing just out of the way of the ATV’s light and with the quilt covering them, Louis didn’t notice their shadow on the slatted wooden side of the barn. But with the blanket gone… While Harry has his eyes on their silhouettes, Louis loosely circles his fingers around the base of Harry’s dick and gives it one slow stroke, holding it firmly so it stands out from Harry’s body. 

Eyes darting to the side to check their shadows, Louis hopes it looks as good as he imagines it will when he licks at the tip of Harry’s dick and takes the first few inches into his mouth. On the far wall, the outlines of their bodies are elongated, stretched, and misshapen, but when he sucks Harry down, the head bumping the back of his throat, Louis can see it in his peripheral vision. The shadow of Harry’s cock looks massive as Louis pulls off and jacks him fast, rubbing his lips over the tip. 

“I’m… I’ll come.” Harry bites his lip and tries to use his hold on Louis’ hair to move him away, but Louis moans and closes his eyes, sucking hard on the head. Quiet, guttural moans leave Harry’s throat every time he thrusts into the tight circle of Louis’ lips, and when he flicks his tongue against the slit, Harry’s hips stutter and he comes, filling Louis’ mouth as he struggles to swallow. 

Before Louis can shove a hand down the front of his jeans, Harry hooks his hands under Louis’ arms and lifts him so abruptly that Louis finds himself struggling to stand. He hasn’t touched himself at all, didn’t cross his mind to take his hands off of Harry once until after he came, and he’s hard, straining against the zipper of his favorite date jeans. Wrapping one arm around Louis’ waist to help him stand, Harry helps him with his zipper, fitting a hand inside his briefs and stroking him with quick flicks of his wrist until Louis finally manages to get his pants past his bum.

The hand on Louis’ waist slides down, cupping his ass, and Harry digs his fingers in, jacking him slowly now that he’s got more freedom of movement. Dipping his chin down, Harry nudges Louis’ cheek, taking a kiss as soon as Louis tips his head up. He licks at Louis’ lips when he traces the head of Louis’ cock with his thumb, and Louis trembles, tightening his grip on Harry’s shoulders. 

Losing himself to Harry’s touch, Louis circles his arms around Harry’s neck, and lifts up, pushing his ass into Harry’s hand, wanting him everywhere and every way at once. Harry’s hand slips lower, searching, and Louis whines. He’ll come fast, but he doesn’t care and he knows Harry doesn’t either. 

“You can,” Louis whispers, reaching for Harry’s hand and lifting it to his lips. “Unless you have lube in your jacket.”

“No,” Harry croaks. He clears his throat and shakes his head, and yelps when Louis sucks his middle and index finger into his mouth. 

“Be gentle.” Louis leisurely fucks Harry’s loose fist around his dick, and that little movement is enough to jar Harry into action. He slips his fingers between Louis’ cheeks so tenderly that Louis’ heart swells, and he rubs sweet circles around Louis’ rim, jerking him off just as easily, and Louis comes, spattering Harry’s stomach and his dick where it’s still hanging half-hard between his legs. Harry works him through it, cleaning them both up with the bandanna he keeps in his back pocket. 

“Lou?” Harry pinches and pulls at his lower lip. “Need to tell you something. ’Cause like, I think it’s important to be honest. No one’s ever… I’ve never, um…”

“Oh! Oh, shit. Sorry.” Louis hurries to finish tucking himself into his jeans. “I’m sorry, Harry, I—”

“No, don’t. Don’t be sorry.” Harry shakes his head and says, “I’m not. I just wanted you to know. You’re my… Well, you’ll be my first. Like, everything.”

Before Louis can begin to process his words, Harry’s arms are around him and he’s being thoroughly kissed. If Harry continues licking and nibbling at his neck while thumbing at his nipple, he’s going to be ready to go again. 

Harry hums, pulling away, and says, “I’m a fast learner.”

Propping his hands on his hips, Louis drinks him in. He was so concerned with Louis that he barely pulled his jeans up. Louis pulls on either side of Harry’s fly and starts with the bottom button. He says, “Should learn to dress yourself.”

“Nah, you’re doing a fantastic job.” Harry trails kisses from behind his ear to his shoulder. He steps back and rubs Louis’ biceps, the friction warming his skin. “You need some clothes. Can I… My place isn’t far…” 

“Yeah?” Louis backs towards Harry’s truck. “You want to take me home with you?” Harry nods and watches while Louis climbs into the passenger seat. He’s still standing there when Louis rolls down the window and whistles. “Tonight or…”

Harry runs for the barn doors, throwing them open, and jumps into the truck, grinning at Louis, and driving them out into the downpour. Instead of holding tight to the handle above the window, Louis reaches over and rests his hand on Harry’s thigh. 


End file.
